


Heart Full of Stars

by Broccoli_San



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Dorks in Love, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Just SakuAtsu being soft for each other, Light Angst, M/M, POV Alternating, Rated T for Atsumu's colourful language, again so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broccoli_San/pseuds/Broccoli_San
Summary: Kiyoomi confessed to Atsumu while not on his right mind, but it was the best decision he ever made.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 140





	Heart Full of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I guess I'll end it here...  
> My brain: Bruh, no. Write some more.
> 
> In all honesty, I just wanted an excuse to dish out more SakuAtsu fluff. These two idiots are so soft for each other in my head, I can't get it out of mind. It's pretty much taking over my whole life at this point. 
> 
> Also, I could have just written it as a long fic, but instead I divided it into three separate parts, hence the alternating POVs lol, sorry about that.

1.

Kiyoomi was drunk the first time they shared their first kiss together.

He had finally resigned to the team’s insistent pleas to join the drinking party they usually threw after a victorious match. A part of him knew that it was because he had slowly but gradually warmed up to his teammates; even loud, rambunctious Bokuto who Kiyoomi had to admit had a certain charm to him. Another part of him also knew that he had only agreed wholly because Atsumu was making his infamous puppy-eyes, the ones he would unleash upon unsuspecting people who would then let him have his way.

Kiyoomi was, regretfully, included among that list of people.

The rest of the team conceded to his cleaning ritual of wiping down the table they had reserved until they settled in and the drinks started coming in. Now, Kiyoomi wasn’t much of a beer kind of guy; he usually opted for wine, because he was, in Atsumu’s own words, a ‘fancy-schmancy sorta guy’, but he wasn’t about to burst the bubble of joy surrounding his teammates. So he downed a shot, and another. And another.

Oops, there went another one. How many shots did that make?

Kiyoomi was going to town, whatever the hell that meant. His mind was filled with a pleasant buzz, and he could barely make out the conversations going around in the background. His head felt so heavy he even contemplated resting his head on the table to take a nap, but he wasn’t about to give into the temptation. His back settled back against his chair, but his head was still slumped forward as he tried to regain some sort of balance back.

“Shit, Omi-kun, careful there. Yer gonna fall if ya keep doin’ that.”

Kiyoomi blinked slowly, registering the concerned voice as Atsumu’s. His head was getting dangerously close to smack against the table. “Mmnh?”

“Ya know, normally I’d find this amusin’, but yer really gonna hurt yourself. C’mere.” A pair of hands helped to get him sitting upright again, but Kiyoomi didn’t want to sit properly. He wanted to slump somewhere and doze off, so he settled for the closest surface he could lean on. It was some sort of wall, broad and warm and felt _suspiciously_ alive.

The wall jumped. Oh. It wasn’t a wall. “Omi-kun, sure ya wanna lay against me like this? Yer not uncomfortable or somethin’?”

He felt himself being pulled away, but he whined in discontent at the loss of warmth. He could hear a sharp intake of breath from above him, but Kiyoomi didn’t care. He wanted to sleep. He let out a soft, contented sigh as he snuggled closer to the living heater who had somehow become warmer within the span of the last few seconds.

“Omi-omi,” Kiyoomi felt arms tugging him away, this time much more firmer. He tried to fight back against the hold, until his given name was repeated sternly. “ _Kiyoomi._ Look at me, wont’cha?”

Kiyoomi finally listened and blinked his hazy gaze away, meeting eye-to-eye with a not-so-happy Atsumu. The Atsumu in front of him was different than the usual Atsumu, with dark eyebrows pulled into a deep frown and his lips set in a straight line. Kiyoomi regarded this unusual sight with a questioning tilt of his head. “’Tsumu…? What’s wrong?”

Kiyoomi shook away the tumble of curls that had fallen over his forehead to see Atsumu better, completely missing the slack-jawed expression that he had. When Kiyoomi could register only one Atsumu instead of three identical clones, Atsumu didn’t look much better. In fact, he looked even more disgruntled than before, albeit with his tanned skin flushed red.

“Omi-omi, ‘s really unfair for you to be actin’ like this.” Atsumu grumbled to himself, unzipping his jacket before putting it on a dazed Kiyoomi. “’Sides, yer way too cold. You shoulda be wearin’ a jacket—”

Kiyoomi looked down at the jacket Atsumu had lent him. It smelled like Atsumu… and so warm like Atsumu. He burrowed deeper into the collar and sighed happily. “Comfy.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m literally gonna combust and fuckin’ die.” Atsumu’s words were muffled behind his hands, which he had used to cover his face. “Omi-kun, I’m takin’ ya home. I’m gonna do somethin’ I’d regret if we stay here much longer.”

Kiyoomi blinked once, twice, hopeful. “Your home?”

“No! _Yers_!”

“Why are you so mad at me, Atsumu?” Kiyoomi pouted.

“I’m not…” Atsumu huffed. “I’m _not_ mad. I’m just frustrated you decide to act all lovey-dovey with me when ya don’t even realize what yer doin’. I wanna kiss you so bad, but I don’t wanna do it when ya won’t fuckin’ remember it—”

“You want to kiss me?” Kiyoomi cut him off, his voice tinged with excitement. Or maybe that was the blood thrumming in his veins. “Atsumu, me too. I want to kiss you.”

Atsumu audibly spluttered. “What the _fuck_.”

Kiyoomi ignored the visible shock from Atsumu and swung his arms around Atsumu’s neck, effectively erasing what little distance left between them. “Let’s kiss. Right here, right now.”

“How the hell did ya manage to make it sound so threatenin’—mmh.”

Atsumu’s lips were a bit chapped, but warm. Kiyoomi liked it really, really much. He was straddled in Atsumu’s lap, half-hanging on the chair that was too small to accommodate two fully grown, above average height men. As Kiyoomi tilted his head to the side to go in for a deeper kiss, Atsumu stopped him with a finger to his lips. “I’m not smoochin’ ya any more than this, Omi-kun.”

Kiyoomi’s voice came out as more of a whine. “Why not?”

“Uh, well… ya know, we’ve been attractin’ other people in here since ya climbed onto me.”

“Let them.” Kiyoomi replied back, uncaring. He tried to lean in again, but Atsumu pulled away. Kiyoomi’s bottom lip jutted out in disapproval. “I thought you wanted to kiss me.”

“I fuckin’ do! ‘S just doesn’t feel right, doin’ it all wrong like this.” Atsumu sighed. “I wanna confess to you properly, maybe take ya out on a date first or somethin’.”

“We can do all of that later.” Kiyoomi reassured him, his bare fingers brushing against Atsumu’s tightly knit eyebrows in an attempt to ease them. “I won’t forget about tonight, Atsumu. Stop worrying about it and just kiss me.”

Atsumu did.

The next day, the Black Jackals’ Twitter account blew up after a thread of them kissing was uploaded, courtesy of very excited shippers that involved the rest of the team.

2.

Atsumu had expected Kiyoomi to retreat back into his untouchable shell after that night.

Kiyoomi didn’t.

“Omi-omi, ya realize that the whole stadium can see us, right?” Atsumu asked with a certain desperation.

“Mmh.” Kiyoomi replied simply, tightening his hold around Atsumu’s neck.

They had won a match, and after a round of the usual high-fives and back slaps (with the exception of one Kiyoomi, at least towards the other players), Kiyoomi had trudged over to Atsumu and hugged him from behind. Tight. Like, the chokingly hard tight.

Kiyoomi didn’t want to let go, so Atsumu had to accommodate for his taller frame by bending on the knees slightly to ease the pressure. Kiyoomi didn’t quite nuzzle into his neck, but his breath made Atsumu’s skin heat up. He tried to ignore the increasingly boisterous background of squealing fangirls (fujoshis, Hinata referred to them, Atsumu didn’t know why he was aware of that term) snapping away with their phones.

“For fuck’s sake, you two. Get a damn room.” Meian shook his head, but Atsumu knew he wasn’t really mad from how fond his voice sounded.

“Omi-omi, can you let go already? I promise to cuddle more later, okay?” Atsumu tried, but he felt Kiyoomi shaking his head. “Hey now, we can’t just stand here all day. Yer gonna make my thighs numb from bendin’ like this.”

Kiyoomi was quiet for a few seconds, contemplating this. “Carry me, then.”

“What the—Omi-kun, you realize ya weigh like 80 kilograms, right? I can’t fuckin’ give you a piggyback ride.” Atsumu balked at the idea. He was plenty strong, alright, but he wasn’t keen on the idea of carrying a fully grown man on his back. Besides, he was more confident in his lower body’s strength rather than his arms, like Kiyoomi’s. Atsumu was pretty sure they couldn’t even pass the entrance without Kiyoomi bonking his head on the door frame.

“… You don’t want to? I’m that heavy?” Atsumu could hear the pout in Kiyoomi’s voice. He started to pull away, and Atsumu already knew he was going to sulk the entire way home.

Oh, _fuck._ Atsumu couldn’t handle the thought of Kiyoomi ignoring him, not after a week of having Kiyoomi all over him. “I was just jokin’, Omi-kun! ‘m sorry, okay? Climb aboard, I’m gonna carry ya like a champ.”

From how fast Kiyoomi scrambled onto his back, Atsumu concluded that Kiyoomi was just pretending. Fuckin’ hell. The lengths he’d go to satisfy his boyfriend. He hitched Kiyoomi up a bit, to move him into a more comfortable position. His arms strained with the effort to carry Kiyoomi, but the small smile that he gave as he peered over immediately washed Atsumu with overflowing mushiness. 

Atsumu was right, Kiyoomi’s head did bonk against the door frame. Twice.

3.

Kiyoomi preferred forehead kisses rather than kissing on the lips. There was just something intimate in the action, conveying deeper feelings than the clashing of mouths.

Atsumu was more than happy to indulge in Kiyoomi’s antics. He was, in contrary to popular belief, a sappy romantic. He was loud and arrogant, but within their closed space, he was patient and loving.

Kiyoomi looked up to a peacefully dozing Atsumu. Their legs were entangled within each other underneath the sheets, and Atsumu’s arms were wrapped around Kiyoomi like a protective shield from the outside world. Kiyoomi reached forward and lightly traced mindless patterns on Atsumu’s chest, the heartbeats thrumming under his fingertips soothing and calming his nerves.

At first, Kiyoomi was slightly terrified that Atsumu would push him away. Kiyoomi clung onto him most of the time, even in public—but it was something he couldn’t help. He felt much safer with Atsumu’s arms around him, keeping his anxiety at bay. For the first time in his life, Kiyoomi finally felt like he belonged somewhere, and that was by Atsumu’s side.

But that also meant that he’d taken a lot of Atsumu’s space, who always insisted that he didn’t mind the attention, that he’d shower him with affection as much as he wanted. Kiyoomi understood this even without Atsumu saying it to him: Atsumu’s habit of keeping an extra hand sanitizer in case Kiyoomi’d forgotten, Atsumu opening doors for him, fully aware of Kiyoomi’s loathing towards the germs left on them, and Atsumu’s warm, strong hands embracing him whenever one of his moods broke out and turned him into a moody, weeping mess. Atsumu was there for him during his best and worst moments.

“Thank you, Atsumu.” Kiyoomi whispered softly. He didn’t want to wake up Atsumu, who seemed so at peace.

But Atsumu stirred awake anyway, groggy and still sleepy. “Omi-omi?”

“Mm. I’m here.” Kiyoomi answered, his voice still soft. “You can go back to sleep, Atsumu. It’s still early, and we don’t have practice today.”

Atsumu grumbled in agreement, but not before planting a sloppy kiss on Kiyoomi’s forehead. Kiyoomi should feel disgusted by the wet area left behind, but he didn’t. His heart clenched with fondness, and he didn’t bother thinking twice before blurting out, “I love you, Atsumu.”

Atsumu gave him a lopsided smile. “Love ya too, Omi-kun.”

He gave him another peck on Kiyoomi’s forehead, leaving behind a searing warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering I just put several fluff ideas in a generator and button smash my keyboard, and voila.
> 
> I'm so vanilla, I know.


End file.
